Trent’s Weekend: Queer Play Party

Every now and again, I have one of those weekends that seems to transcend reality — where I live fantasies rather than imagining them.  I had a recent weekend that was one of these.  It was hot, sexy, connected, flowing, and affirming.  It was, in a word, amazing.  So let’s get right to it …

I drove into the city with excitement.  The dusk was settling in, and the city lights glowed with a sparkling orange and yellow hue, appearing like a pile of treasure as I emerged from the mountain pass.  I was on my way to a queer play party.  For those who don’t know, queer is a word that people use as a sexual identity.  It essentially means a very open individual who is attracted to the person, not the parts.  It can also mean someone who does not see themselves as “normal” in any way, shape, or form.  These are people who break molds and choose to be authentic, rather than create a box to dwell in.  At least that’s how I interpret it.  And a play party?  Well, in the context of consenting adults, a play party is sexually open atmosphere when people are encouraged to safely explore fetishes and new erotic experiences in a contained environment.  There ain’t no pinatas and Spongebob.  Unless that gets you off, of course.

I had plans to meet with my dear guy friend and lover, Otter, at the party.  When he and I get together, there seems to be some kind of magic energy that happens, and we tend to have really incredible experiences together.  The fact that he would be there made the potential for sexy, mind-blowing interactions much, much more plausible.  In fact, it pretty much guaranteed it.  I arrived at the party early and was greeted by the door people, short-haired smiley women with curvy bodies, flashy clothes, and low voices.  I was a little intimidated, as I was dressed in simple jeans and a plaid shirt, and I felt a little out of place among these radical queer women (assuming they all identified as female).  But they greeted me warmly, welcomed me inside and gave me the low-down on how the party worked.

“Here you can see three different sets of bead necklaces,” one of them began as she pointed at three mannequins who were wearing the items. “If you wear red beads, it means you are just here to watch and do not want to participate.  Yellow beads means you are interested in maybe playing, but you want to be asked first.  And green means that you are up for anything and here to play!”

Not knowing who would be at the party and what kinds of things would go down, I opted for the yellow beads.  The hostess then explained that it was a party based on consent and that there were several stations available for play, such as a spanking station, candle wax, and private playrooms.  I was then directed to a place to check my clothes should I want to undress.  I quickly removed my pants and shoes, keeping my plaid shirt and underwear on, since I was a bit cold.  Looking around, there were only a handful of people there, and I bumped into a few acquaintances who were on their way to the bondage station.  I had only chatted with them a few moments before I saw Otter walk up behind them, wearing his usual: a well-worn, slightly ripped t-shirt and well-worn, slightly ripped jeans.  I smiled when I saw him and saw his lovely smile in return, chipped tooth and all.  We kissed and embraced, and I smelled his body odor, sweaty from his bike ride.  As always, it was was intoxicating.  In typical Otter fashion, he already had the green beads on.

“Well, I think I’ll go get undressed now!” He said as he laughed and walked to clothes rack, removing everything but his underwear.  Now the party was really getting started.

3Otter and I mingled a bit until we bumped into a familiar face.  Redd was a man I had been on a date with a while back and kind of lost touch with.  He was a student counselor at a local university and identified as 100%, unequivocally gay.  Zero interest in women.  During our date all those months back, he’d told me a story about how he tried to have sex with a lesbian friend of his.  Both of them got really freaked out and stopped immediately upon realizing how weird and foreign their body parts were to one another.  Yes, Redd loves men.  And only men.

He sported a thick beard and wore a beautiful smile.  And that was all he wore aside from his tight underwear hugging a generous-looking package.  Otter and I embraced him and exchanged friendly words about how excited we were to see each other again.  Redd quickly introduced us to a gay friend he’d brought along, John.  John was a wonderfully thick-bodied, black bear of a man.  I immediately felt a connection with John — his warm and welcoming eyes and soft, calm voice drew me in.  I noticed how strong and sure his hands appeared.  Definitely the kind of man I enjoy a good cuddle and make out session with.

Wasting no time, the four of us began our exploration into the deeper sections of the playroom.  We watched a butch lesbian woman whipping and tying up a gorgeous trans woman.  We enjoyed perusing the spanking station and witnessing some serious paddling going on.  And, finally we found an empty station — the candle wax chair.  Situated in a corner with dozens of lit candles surrounding it, it had a particular erotic allure that had all of us remarking how sexy the whole scene was.

“I say we drip some hot wax on Otter,” I suggested, ready to start playing.  Of course, Otter was more than happy to oblige, hopping onto the chair and submitting his body to our whims.  Redd, John, and I began slowly drizzling the hot wax onto Otter, beginning with his arms and working our way to his nipples and abdomen.  Otter moaned pleasurably and twitched his body with every drip of hot wax.  Our hands traveled all over his body, and eventually our lips did, too.  Soon I was making out with Otter and kissing his neck and nipples.  Redd leaned in to kiss Otter, as well, and then I locked lips with Redd.  John continued massaging and dripping wax all over Otter’s body until there were few places left to cover.  The wax quickly dried, and then we cleaned every morsel off Otter’s body with more sensual touch.

It was John’s turn next, and I was excited to explore his smooth skin and tufts of curly black hair scattered all over his body.  After lots of wax, I began delicately playing with his nipples and subtly biting them.  John ran his fingers through my hair and down my back, grabbing my ass.  He was definitely enjoying himself, as the others continued their waxing and touching.

We could have stayed at the candle wax station all night, but in typical Otter fashion, my dear guy friend suggested we change the scene.  He wanted to try some erotic shock.  The four of us moved to the static shock station, where there were tools to stimulate and awaken every ounce of skin on a person’s body.  Once again, Otter, who was in a very submissive mood, volunteered to be first.  And so me and my two accomplices got to work playfully shocking and loving Otter from head to toe.  Otter’s moans encouraged us to continue for quite some time.

After a while, I began to get thirsty, so I stepped away from my male cohort to grab a drink and maybe explore something different with other folks in attendance.  I once again made my back to the BDSM station, where the two ladies were still at play.  I enjoyed watching the skillful application of rope by the dom female to the sub trans woman.  Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a curvy woman in bra and panties sitting alone on the candle wax chair.  Our eyes met and smiles were exchanged for a few minutes until I decided to wander over to see if she wanted to play a little.  “I thought you’d never ask,” she replied with a disarming smile, her striking light green-blue eyes seductively meeting mine.  She unclipped her bra and exposed her full, supple breasts.  After playing with the men, now I was ready to enjoy a woman.


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Learning Men, Part 5: Rub-A-Dub-Dub

Waking up the next morning with Lee, his arms wrapped around me, I felt so at home.  There was a new openness in my heart, a kind of certainty about what he meant to me.  We were closer than we had ever been, and we basked in the morning light, our faces glowing with pleasure just being in each other’s presence.

“Morning, handsome,” he said lovingly.  Though I now felt closer to Lee, I still knew that he loved me more deeply, more passionately than I loved him.  But, even so, I allowed myself to receive his care and tenderness fully because it felt like a blessed gift to be appreciated so much.  Though there was the possibility of his love overwhelming me — it had before — I wasn’t afraid of that happening now.  I just enjoyed it all, unhesitatingly.  “What do you want to do today?”  He asked, putting my needs first as he always did.

I shared with him my fantasy about Stacy.  How I wanted to be with her and him at once, to feel the erotic energy of a woman while experiencing the touch and presence of a man.  Of course, Lee was excited and more than willing to help make my request happen.  We decided we’d invite Stacy over to the apartment again that night.  We were both aware that Todd might come, too, depending on what Stacy wanted, but we were just as happy with any scenario involving him, too.  A few texts later, the plan was set: Stacy and Todd were coming over in the evening for naked hot tubbing and drinks.  Lee and I were ready to have some fun, and we hoped the other two were of the same mindset.

Evening came quickly.  Lee and I returned to the apartment at dusk after walking around the city and seeing more of Lee’s hometown, including the neighborhood he grew up in.  Seeing this part of Lee’s life made me care for him even more, the tattered buildings and poverty-stricken atmosphere shocked my sensibilities.  I’d never seen anything like it.  He told stories of being stuck in between two skin colors, how being half-black meant he was never good enough for either race.  Even his own family had chastised him for the color of his skin, badgering him to drink more coffee to turn his skin darker.  Black kids would tease him for being too white.  White kids would harass him for being too black.  Knowing these things helped me have more compassion for Lee’s political rantings the night before.  It made sense that he would be so passionate.  He had a lot to overcome in his life, and he learned to be hardened to survive in the world.  But with me, he softened and displayed his vulnerable, even submissive side.  The intensity and contrast of Lee’s coping skills both intrigued and perplexed me.  I knew had a lot to learn from this man.

Stacy and Todd arrived at the apartment shortly after Lee and I.  Everybody hugged and greeted — the energy of the group felt promising.  We mixed up some drinks and headed to the hot tub, everyone undressing.  I tried not to gawk at Stacy’s voluptuous body, her beautiful full breasts and curvy ass instantly causing pulses in my cock.  She was even more gorgeous than I’d imagined.  Her nipples were perky and so suckable that it took everything I had to prevent myself from engulfing them in my mouth.  Her shaved pussy revealed a tight, tempting slit that I could practically feel my tongue slipping into.  Todd, a similar skin tone to Lee’s, also had a beautiful body — a broad chest and round bubble butt.  His hairless appearance down below stood in contrast to the natural look Lee and I had, and his cock stood at half-mast upon dropping his pants and underwear.   Operation “naked hot tub foursome” was underway.  Things were looking good so far.

5134377We drank, we talked, we laughed.  The warmth of the water made it easy for the guys’ cocks to playfully sway back and forth below the surface, half-hard and ready for action.  Even so, things were relatively platonic for quite a while.  Finally, I decided to make a move, asking Stacy if I could rub her feet.  She was happy to accept my offer.  She moaned pleasurably as I caressed her soles and played with her toes.  I met eyes with Lee.  He nodded and smiled adoringly.  I looked over at Todd.  His eyes appeared to be emotionless.  Maybe Todd needed to warm himself up to the idea of Stacy being given attention by two other men.  I asked Todd if he wanted a shoulder rub.  He welcomed it, and after a while he appeared to be feeling more comfortable.  Lee then moved in to take over for me, which gave opportunity for Stacy and I to exchange some touch.  She sat in front of me while I caressed her shoulders and back.  She moaned approvingly.  I glanced at Todd.  I couldn’t get a full read on him, but he seemed to be okay with everything.

After a few minutes, I moved my hands around Stacy until I was grasping her breasts.  She moaned once again and titled her head to the side, inviting my lips to meet her neck.  I rubbed her firm breasts and began sliding my hands down her abdomen, feeling her belly button and the softness of her hips.  Then my hands wandered to her inner thighs, and she moaned more loudly, shaking a little from her arousal.  She wanted it.  Bad.  So I obliged, my hand gliding over her smooth, delicate pussy lips.  My fingers made their way into her slit and felt up her clit, which was throbbing and firm.  Her pussy juices mingling with the water felt like a sort of ephemeral silk as it surrounded my fingers and then dispersed.  My rock hard cock pressed into her ass crack, as my fingers went deeper inside of her.  Then, all of the sudden she said, “I have to pee.”  She hurriedly hopped out of the hot tub and went to the bathroom.  I was confused.

But then I looked at Todd and realized what she had seen.  His eyes seemed very sad, almost hopeless.  He wasn’t ready to see her with another man, let alone two.  He didn’t need to say anything.  His face said it all.  So we decided to relax and just call it a night.  Stacy and Todd got their clothes back on and prepared to leave.   Even though it was a long shot, I decided to ask Todd how he felt about just me joining them in bed without Lee.  (Lee had told me this would be okay, as he just wanted me to be happy, and he wanted to hear the hot story afterwards.)  But Todd wasn’t feeling it.  “It’ll happen sometime,” he said. “Just not tonight.”

Damn.  Operation “naked hot tub foursome” fail.


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Learning Men, Part 4: First Taste

It’s been said there are three things you shouldn’t discuss if you want to remain polite in the company of others: sex, politics, and money.  In my circle of friends, we talk about sex all the time.  No big deal.  Money is a subject not really important to any of us, so it’s hardly ever mentioned.  Politics, on the other hand, comes up occasionally.  And when it does, there is almost always a divide that happens.  That night in Lee’s hometown, in the romantic, luxurious apartment we had rented, sitting with our new friends, that familiar divide began after a brief mention of a hot-button political issue by Lee.  Katherine had an opposing opinion to Lee’s.  And the two went at it.

I’d never seen Lee being so passionate about something.  He’d usually been calm, sweet, somewhat docile around me.  To see him in that moment — his hands furiously waving around and voice being raised — I was shocked and very uneasy.  Katherine certainly felt the same way, according to her body language.  It seemed the others in the room sensed it as well.  Stacy tried multiple times to deescalate the situation to no avail.  I remained an observer mostly, actually a little embarrassed by Lee’s insistence that his position was the correct one.  Sometimes it’s best just to agree to disagree, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen.  But what did happen is this: it got late, people got tired, and it was time for our friends to go home.  And it was obvious at that point that my fantasy of group sex with Stacy would not come to fruition.

As soon as Stacy, Todd, and Katherine departed, Lee was back to his sweet, loving self, and he reached to embrace me and kiss me.  I pulled away.  I needed to tell him how I felt when he had been arguing his political position.  It just isn’t attractive to me when a person digs their heels in and cannot reason with others.  I prefer people to get along, rather than be “right” about any given thing, and so I expressed all of this to Lee.  He reacted defensively, although he was much softer than when he had debated with the others before.  For a half hour we talked in the apartment hallway, leaning against opposite walls.  Then we had a breakthrough.  Lee saw my point, apologized, and took responsibility for being so passionate about his position, that he had forgotten the whole point of the evening was to connect with the others in the room.  From my perspective, his actions appeared to have the affect of driving people away.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Thanks for helping me see that.  I just want you to be happy.  That’s what’s most important to me.”

At that moment I felt something for Lee that I hadn’t felt since the first time I kissed him — gratefulness for his vulnerability.  To see him soften in the way he did after being so passionate and emboldened drew me close to him.  It told me that he was able to accept feedback and make changes, which is a very important aspect of being in a loving relationship for me.  And all of the sudden, I wanted him.  I wanted his lips, his body, his cock.  I wanted to make love to a man — really make love — for the first time in my life.

men loving

I looked lovingly into his eyes, grabbed his hand and walked him the bedroom, gently guiding him to lay on the bed.  I mounted him and kissed him sensually, expressing through my lips the way I felt in that moment.  I touched his body all over as I kissed him — his chest, arms, abs, thighs, ass, and slid my hand over his cock.  Our lips still touching, I began stroking him slowly.  I played gently with his balls and pressed onto his taint now and again.  Lee was rock hard, his cock continually pressing against my stomach.  Feeling him this way made me want him even more.  So I began to move my lips to his neck, to his chest and nipples, down to his naval.  Lee was moaning and breathing heavily, saying my name over and over, his whole body tensing in anticipation of where my mouth would go next.  I began to explore below his belly button, his tightly curled pubic hairs, his inner thighs.  I still felt the warmth of his cock in my hand as my mouth came closer and closer.  Without any hesitancy, I knew where I was headed next.

I licked Lee’s throbbing cock up and down.  He moaned even more loudly.  I nibbled my way down to his balls and filled my mouth with each one, stroking him more with my hand.  My tongue once again traveled up his shaft and finally I took his cock into my mouth, slowly sliding up and down.  His precum tasted musty; its wetness made my mouth slip smoothly over his head with every pass.  I felt Lee’s hand on the back of my head as went down him, pressing me further and deeper into his cock.  I could feel him deep in the back of my throat.  “I’m going to cum,” he said.  Being uncertain about tasting another man’s cum (I hadn’t even tasted my own at that point), I removed my mouth and started jerking him off.  My saliva mixed with his precum making the perfect lubrication.  And he came hard, his cum shoot up into the air, spilling all over my hand, some dripping off the sides of his chest and abdomen.  I held his cock and leaned closer to him for a kiss — the combination of his cum on my hand and his lips touching mine was incredibly erotic.

I grabbed some tissue and cleaned up Lee’s huge load.  “Now it’s your turn,” he said as he laid me down and began kissing my body all over, making his way to my cock.  He started sucking me all the way down to the bottom of my shaft, my cock half-hard, entirely engulfed by his mouth.  He looked up at me with a determined yet somewhat pleading look.  “I want to taste you.”  I lifted my legs for him, and his dug his tongue into my asshole — my first ever rim job.  It was an odd kind of pleasurable tickle for me.  Lee enjoyed it thoroughly, coming up now and again to kiss me and let me taste myself.  This turned him on even more.

After an hour of playing with each other in bed, Lee and I ended up cuddling, ready to sleep, both of us feeling so connected to each other.  Thoughts filled my mind as I drifted off: I might be in love with this man; I might really have feelings for him; I might have Lee in my life for a long time to come.  Being intimate with Lee that evening — how comfortable it was — had me excited for more.  The thought of Stacy joining us still danced in my head.  I wondered what she was up to the next evening.


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Learning Men, Part 3: Meet the Family

It was a hot and humid time of year to be in Lee’s hometown, and the AC in our apartment provided us with ample opportunity to sleep in and snuggle in the mornings.  Being the heavy sleeper that I am, I often awoke mid-morning to Lee meditating beside me or showering.  He would greet me with a warm smile and welcoming eyes.  “Morning, handsome,” he’d say with a sweet, endearing tone, his beautiful naked body painted by slivers of sunlight peeking through the slightly-parted curtains.  I felt lucky to be so adored, but I also felt undeserving in some regard since I was not feeling sexually drawn to Lee.  But he didn’t seem to mind at all.  The way he put it: he was in love with my heart.  Sex didn’t matter.  I felt totally relaxed around him, and any pressure I perceived was 100% manufactured in my own mind.  When he and I showered together, his erect cock would rub against my ass as he soaped down the entire front of my body.  Why didn’t I get an erection, too?  Was I really attracted to Lee?  Or was I fooling myself?  Of course, these questions in my mind only made me more nervous about the whole situation, so I tried my best to not give them any attention.

While one layer of questions in my mind involved being sexual with this gorgeous and charming man, another layer that I had to confront was the ever-blossoming romantic connection we shared.  Could I really be in a relationship with a man?  What would my friends and family and strangers on the street think?  Was I ready for that level of “being out” in my explorations?  These questions intensified even more when Lee and I traveled across town to visit his family.  Lee had told me they were expecting me and excited to get to know this person that he’d fallen in love with.  Knowing what I meant to Lee and how his family was sure to perceive me, I was entirely uncertain about how I would feel.  But upon meeting them, my concerns melted away, and I was greeted with open arms.  Still, part of me felt more like a best friend to Lee, not necessarily his boyfriend or lover, and so it was odd to be introduced to his family as a romantic partner.  While he didn’t directly tell them that’s what I was, he did inform them that I was a very, very special person in his life, so they no doubt understood that to mean I was his boyfriend.  Though I was willing to be open to the possibility, I wasn’t quite settled with that designation.  Lee, on the other hand, was more than ready to be more official.  He didn’t pressure me, but knowing that he was so deeply committed challenged my ability to be relaxed about he and I.  I began to feel dizzied by the pace of everything.


After a few days of exploring the city with Lee, meeting his family, and having lots of heart-to-heart conversations, the night came to meet up with Stacy, who was finally able to get time away from her busy schedule.  In addition to working a lot, Stacy had also been juggling two relationships with two men, and her emotional turmoil due to the tension between these two partners caused her a great deal of stress.  She was excited to spend time with Lee and I, but she also wanted to make sure to spend time with her partners.  The week Lee and I were in town was also the week that one of her partners, Todd, was visiting her.  Since they had not been able to see each other often due to living in different cities four hours apart, Stacy asked if Todd could also come over to spend time with Lee and I.  This would also provide opportunity for Todd to get to know me, as he’d only heard about me previously.  Stacy also wanted us to meet her best friend and roommate, Katherine.  Lee and I had no problem with any of that, so that night the three of them came over to the apartment.  We mixed up some cocktails, and sat down like a newly formed dysfunctional family.

Everyone was clicking pretty well as the night progressed.  We told stories and laughed.  It was like a gathering of old friends.  For an hour, everyone was just hanging out and talking.  I wasn’t sure how everyone was feeling, but I knew what I was interested in — Lee and Stacy, in bed with me.  Todd wasn’t exactly my type, but I felt comfortable with his presence, as well.  My first indication that Stacy felt the same way came in the form of a subtle shift of her body position.  Stacy was on the couch between Todd and I, and in a relaxed, sensual manner, she sighed a bit while slowly laying her head on Todd’s lap and putting her gorgeous legs and feet onto mine.  I felt my cock throb a little.  I looked up at Lee, and he smiled a knowing smile.  Katherine was definitely the odd person out, as she wasn’t giving any hints of wanting to be involved more intimately, but the sense was that she was prepared to leave any time and give the rest of us space to do our thing.

The night appeared to be going in a promising direction.  That is, until someone brought up politics.


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Learning Men, Part 2: Mind Games

Shortly after Lee and I began our courtship, I traveled to another state for a few months of summer work.  The distance only seemed to bring us closer.  Lee was very romantic and would send me little notes and care packages, always expressing how amazed he was by me, how much he loved me and was grateful for me.  It was very touching.  He and I would chat on the phone almost every evening when I drove home from work.  His voice soothed me and provided me with much-needed company in a place where I didn’t have much.  I truly felt a kind of love for him that was difficult to pin down.  Was it romantic?  Or was it more of a friendship kind of love?  Or was it something entirely different?  Maybe it was unique to having feelings for another man.  I tried not to compare my love for Lee to relationships I’d had with women in the past.  Yet all of this loving interaction with a man threw me for a loop.  Was Lee becoming my first boyfriend?

Midway through the summer Lee and I arranged a special trip to his hometown across the country.  He would be there to meet me upon my arrival.  I’d get to see where he grew up, meet his family, and enjoy a week exploring the city.  We arranged to stay at a beautiful apartment close to downtown.  I had another friend, Stacy, who I was very interested in seeing in the same town.  She also happened to be a woman I’d been romantically intrigued by for two years.  Lee had no problem with this, as he identified as bisexual and polyamorous.  He didn’t want to limit my love for others at all, no matter the sex or nature of the relationship.  Stacy was also excited to meet Lee, as she identified in a very similar way as he did — bi and poly.  The potential for the three of us to enjoy each other’s company appeared to be quite promising.  Fantasies of hot, sweaty threesomes flooded my mind, and Lee expressed the same.  I hadn’t been with a woman in many months, nor had Lee.  And the two of us with her sounded like a sexy scenario, to say the least.

men spoon

I arrived at the airport in Lee’s hometown, and Stacy was the first to greet me.  Her beautiful long brown hair, emerald green eyes, and disarming smile were so much better to see in person than in the online video chats we’d grown accustomed to.  I could get a much more visceral sense of the fullness of her breasts and the curvy nature of her hips.  She immediately felt good in my arms.  We hopped in her car and went to a restaurant to grab some food until we heard from Lee.  It had only been an hour since I landed, but I was already very enamored with Stacy.  All the more reason to be even more excited for her to meet my lovely guy friend.  I got a text from Lee, and Stacy and I drove to find him sitting underneath a statue — a fierce, lean man, chiseled out of stone and radiating confidence.  The statue was pretty neat, too.  Lee opened his arms and held me tight when I hugged and kissed him.  He seemed to hug Stacy with the same amount of love.  It was so wonderful to be reunited with my dear guy friend, and I couldn’t wait for the week to unfold.

Stacy had to work early the next morning, so she dropped Lee and I off at our apartment.  It was everything we imagined — a spacious one bedroom, one bathroom spread with a king-sized bed, luxurious linens, an indoor hot tub, and a roomy shower with two heads.  Of all the places to have a sexy, romantic getaway, this was the place.  Yet, as Lee and I settled in, crawled under the sheets, and felt the warmth of each other’s naked bodies, conflict arose in my mind.  Just a moment before, I had experienced the feminine energy of Stacy; her familiar softness instantly caused arousal in my mind.  I had already learned women.  I knew what excited me about their bodies and their presence.  I knew all the ins and outs of their subtle erotic energy.  And there I was with a man, feeling his strong hands caress me, his muscular body against mine.  It felt good to be touched by Lee — to be loved by Lee.  But I couldn’t help feeling confused.  As he spooned me, breathing into my ears, his erect cock delicately poked between my thighs; his lips met my neck and shoulders.  I wanted to enjoy it, but it felt so different.  It was comforting and endearing — and I was not repulsed by it at all — but I could not feel the same passion I’d had for female partners.  I told him that I was so happy to see him, but I was ready for sleep.

I never thought I’d end up in bed with another man, sleeping side-by-side, cuddling.  But there I was.  And though it felt nice, my mind would not allow me to experience it fully — to really feel it.  Then I had a thought about Stacy being there with us.  Maybe having a woman between us would help me sort out some of my confusion.  Or maybe it would add to it.  Either way, I wanted to find out.


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Learning Men, Part 1: First Encounter

About 4 years ago I met a man who I felt a strong attraction to.  His mocha skin and soft, thin dreadlocks drew me in.  His musical talent and open-heartedness drew me closer.  It wasn’t the first time I admired a man; I had many times before in my life — often a mentor or teacher of some sort, but not always.  The men I admired usually embodied something I wanted to become.  Or they represented opportunity for me to open more deeply to being closer to another man.  And so I watched them, spent time with them, sometimes exchanged massages or deep-felt hugs.  I learned how to be vulnerable and give in to male energetic exchange.  And it was wonderful, liberating.

I thought my mocha, dreadlockethe_two_loversd friend would be the same — a mentor of sorts with whom I could touch and be touched, physically and emotionally.  Yet, as he sat in a chair and I endearingly massaged his shoulders one night when we were alone in his home, a much more unique opportunity presented itself.  He titled his head back towards me, moaned, closed his eyes, and parted his lips ever so slightly.  He was ready for a kiss.  I had never kissed a man before in my life.  There had been a few brushes with the scenario, but it had never come to fruition.  But in this instance, it felt right — comfortable, warm, and inviting.  And something in me said, “Go for it.”  So I did.  His lips were soft, sensual, not unlike a woman’s lips.  But when I felt his chest, it was lean and solid.  This was a subconscious conflict in my mind I had not yet encountered in real life.  Being so used to the softness of a woman’s body, how could I be aroused by a hardness that was so unfamiliar?

That initial encounter turned out to be a lot more than I expected.  We kissed, we massaged, we caressed, we played with each other’s cocks.  He sucked me.  I was half-hard and didn’t cum.  But neither of us cared about that.  I gave him a handjob.  He came quickly; it was the first time I felt the warmth and creamy texture of another man’s cum.  As I drove home that night, high off this new and exciting experience, I saw a billboard that read: “WOW.”  That about summed it up for me.  And I smiled to myself, feeling ready for more male attention in my life, knowing in my heart that the time had come.  I’d flirted enough with the idea, and it was time I made fantasy a reality.

I saw Lee again over the next few days, and we enjoyed a more platonic connection during that time.  I kissed him when I saw him, and again when I left him, but we didn’t dive further into the sexual realm.  I told him I wanted to take it slow.  I really liked him, but I didn’t yet know what being with another man meant to me in my life; I had a lot to sort out.  He understood and was willing be with me through my process.  Little did I know it would be more than just a playful exploration — it was going to be confusing, challenging, and enlightening.  In fact, it would be one of the most difficult relationships of my life.


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Sweet Fantasy

Sweet sweet fantasy baby
When I close my eyes 
You come and you take me

~ Mariah Carey, “Fantasy”

Oh, Mariah.  She’s the one I fantasized about in high school.  I can vividly recall watching one of her music videos, looking for nude pictures on the internet (all fakes, but I didn’t care), or just closing my eyes — then she came.  And so did I.  It didn’t matter that I knew nothing about her as a person aside from her appearance and that angelic voice of hers.  I had no idea what she looked like waking up in the morning, what kinds of weird quirks she might have, what made her laugh and cry, or anything about her deepest thoughts.  But seeing her sing and move gave me an erotic charge, nonetheless.  And it was all my own erotic charge — a one-way blast of sexual energy.  Mariah didn’t know I was pleasuring myself while thinking of her.  I’m sure she knew she was a sex object to many people.  But she didn’t know me and my mind.  It was my sweet fantasy.  And I enjoyed the hell out of it.  Mariah, if you’re out there reading this.  Thanks, on behalf of all teenage boys in the 90s.

What is it about fantasy that is so powerful and gripping to us?  How could it be that the mere thought of someone — whether you know the person deeply or not — can bring about arousal?  We know it is not the object of adoration who is “giving” the fantasy — it is the person who is creating the fantasy in their own mind giving it to themselves.  In the music video for “Fantasy” Mariah can be seen expressing pure pleasure and bliss, yet no object of her fantasy can be seen.  It’s all in her mind.  She is seen basking purely in her own imagination, and she knows exactly what to imagine to elicit the feelings of eroticism that suit her mood.  That is the beauty of fantasy.  It doesn’t require anyone else to participate.  It is ours to own and to play with.  And play with it we do.  Because … why not?

Yet recently I’ve wondered: when can fantasy become detrimental to our psychological well-being?  While I believe it is harmless to imagine wonderful things in our own minds that get us off — or even to pursue some of those things to make them reality — I’ve begun to run into a bit of a problem lately with fantasizing.  I’ve become attached to something not real.  I’ve allowed fantasy to dictate my emotions.  How?  Simply by wanting the fantasy to manifest in reality and then feeling let down when it does not happen.  It has also skewed my ability to really see people as they are, rather than how I want them to be.  There is disappointment and objectification where there is fantasy run amok.


I have often objectified people before actually getting to know them.  I’ve started sexual relationships before an emotional connection is formed, and then I put focused energy into thinking of the person sexually in various ways.  It’s pretty fun and exciting for a while.  And then I see who they really are — their insecurities, challenging quirks, and the like — and the imagined picture of who they are falls apart, and I’m left with a decision: do I really want to continue this relationship?  If I am honest with myself, I then have an extreme mental shift to make in order to stop objectifying the person.  I have a choice to see them as a human being, not as an object of my fantasy.

Sometimes the fantasy is so powerful that I can trick myself into glossing over obvious faults: “Sure they’re a little unstable and chaotic, but they have such potential.”  Well, of course every human being has potential, but looking at it more closely, my choice revolves around whether it is my job to help them unlock that potential.  It is not.  It is everyone’s job to evolve as they will, at their own pace.  So if someone is not in step with me, and I feel responsibility for their process in some way, it’s probably not a good idea to form a deep intimate partnership with that person — unless I want to play “hero” and save them.  And that works about 0 times out of ten.  I’m not a believer in saviors.  I believe we all have to save ourselves.

Now, none of this is to say that I can’t form some kind of intimate connection with someone who has readily apparent faults, but the boundaries of that connection have to look very different than one of a deeper life partnership where I mesh and match with a person — where both participants are teachers to each other.  The boundaries of a “lesser” connection have to be communicated very clearly.  I have some friends who have a lot of drama in their lives.  Sometimes I listen to their stories, and I give some friendly reflection.  I am not really attached to their outcome.  Rather than being an active participant in their process, I remain more like a mirror that helps them see themselves.  And it doesn’t feel like a lot of work because I’m not attached.  Now, if I have a sexual fantasy about that same person, well it’s tricky.  Sometimes I can be real with them and be unattached.  But other times I co-sign their B.S. and listen to them with the hope that maybe I can get in their pants at some point.  I wouldn’t exactly call the latter a satisfying connection, would you?  On some level I am deceiving myself.  And self-deception doesn’t feel good to me.  Even doing it with self-awareness, there still is a missing element of expressing my true perception to the person and defining boundaries in the relationship.  Gray area will always be there, but when everything is gray, all you have is a giant, bland mess.

So nowadays I try my best to practice authenticity in my sexual relationships.  That doesn’t mean that every person I have sex with has be some evolved, spiritual individual who has their shit together.  But it does mean that I have to see the person as they are.  I have to acknowledge when I am engaging with someone who I see more as a friend and not a long term romantic partner, and that means to see their humanness in all it’s chaotic glory.  And it means acknowledging what we share.  If it’s not a life partnership, what is it?  Friends with benefits?  Calling something out for what it is and defining boundaries might mean that my sexual fantasy will be compromised.  After all, part of what makes fantasy work is objectification and idealization.  But, if I really want authentic connections with the people in my life, I have to meet them where they are, not ignore the parts of them that don’t suit my imaginings.

This process has been a difficult one for me, but I get better and better at it.  Do I still fantasize about people I don’t really know?  Sure I do.  But there is a major difference I can feel, and it has to do with letting go of my attachment to those fantasies.  I am more playful with them, less dependent on them being real and more aware of how they suit me in the here and now, and I don’t need the person to feed that fantasy directly.  When I see an object of my fantasy, I hold awareness around how much I am letting idealization rule my perception and how much I am actually present with the person, seeing them as they are.  It’s a very necessary shift that I’m learning to be more comfortable with.

You know, Mariah, you are a bit of a narcissist.  I don’t really find that attractive.  I think we should just be friends.

But maybe I could fuck that narcissism out of you … 😛


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